Spider Game
Page 29
- Background:
- Text Font:
- Text Size:
- Line Height:
- Line Break Height:
- Frame:
Trap held Cayenne as close to him as humanly possible and just let her cry. He’d never held a weeping woman in his life, but from the moment he’d touched his mind to hers, outside in the hallway, when he’d heard the first hesitant Trap, he’d known she needed him with the same intensity as he needed her. Maybe it was for different reasons, but he wasn’t alone in this and that was all he needed to know.
This wasn’t just about the explosive chemistry between them. Right in that moment, the only thing in his mind was to hold and comfort her. To find ways to show her what life with him was going to be. He wanted to give her everything he could possibly give her. She deserved that. She’d never had anything and she would never expect anything from him.
He knew what greed was. He had far too much money pouring into his accounts every minute of every day. He’d worked for it, but still, thanks to the magazines making him one of the most eligible bachelors in the world, the write-ups on him, the disclosure that he was a billionaire several times over, women threw themselves at him.
Trap was often rude. Beyond rude. He’d developed that as a form of protection and now it was ingrained in him. He was demanding in bed because he knew he could be, and then he kicked the women out, refusing to allow any woman to sleep in the same bed with him. He never took them home with him. Never. None of the women had any idea who he was, or even cared to know. They knew about his bank account and that was enough for them.
Cayenne had no idea about bank accounts and whether or not he had money. She could care less. She was alone. Afraid. Different. A throwaway. He’d been thrown away by his father and uncles. He had trust issues and recognized that Cayenne had those same issues deeply ingrained in her.
He hated that she was weeping as if her heart had broken, but he was grateful she’d come to him. That she’d given him that. She had handed him something precious. He knew he was a bull in a china shop when it came to relationships, but he read books and he observed carefully. No detail got past him. And he had instincts. He had always relied on his instincts.
Cayenne was vulnerable to him – and only him. She would never show this side of herself to any of the other men no matter how much she was hurt. He had that from her. That raw honesty. That soft spot. The truth that was her heart, and he would protect it with everything in him.
“All right, baby,” he crooned. “You’re going to make yourself sick. If Nonny wakes up and hears you crying, she’ll be in here like a shot. She’ll box my ears and take you under her wing. I like holding you when you need it, so I don’t want that to happen.”
She continued to weep but much more silently.
He smiled at the ceiling and tunneled his fingers in the thick mass of hair. Silky soft just like her skin. A man would get lost in that hair. “I’ll admit asking for that might be a little selfish. I want to be the man you turn to when things get all out of whack for you. I want you to feel safe with me and not anyone else.”
Her hand moved. She’d laid on him without moving a single muscle, almost as if her body had melted into his. Now, her hand stroked down his shoulder, over his biceps. He felt that touch burn through sinew into bone.
“I don’t know where to go, Trap. I know that’s your home, not mine. But I don’t know where to go,” she whispered, choking out the admission.
His hold tightened on her and he found himself frowning. “Is that what this storm is all about? Baby, I had that apartment built for you. I chose every piece of furniture down there. For you. It belongs to you.”
He heard – and felt – her breath hitch. Very slowly she lifted her head, her tear-drenched green eyes searching his blue ones. “Trap.” She whispered his name. Disbelieving. “You did?”
“What the hell am I going to do with all that girlie shit, baby? I knew you were using the basement. I don’t like you in it, but I reinforced the walls against flooding just in case. Still, eventually, I hope to lure you upstairs with me. I’m giving you fair warning about that. I want you in my bed, and I’m not going to play bullshit games. Right now, you need your space, and I’m going to give it to you as long as I can. So yeah, that apartment is all yours. I won’t go down there unless you invite me.”
“Really?”
This time her voice was breathless. The sound shot straight to his cock. He was stark naked and he didn’t need that happening. Not now. Not when she needed reassurance and a gentle hand. He wasn’t a gentle lover. He was demanding. As bossy and as abrupt in bed as he was outside of it. He didn’t want to scare her away.
“I just said it. I don’t like bullshit, Cayenne. When you want or need something, you have to come out and tell me. I’ll do the same. I don’t want you robbing people. I want you safe, with a roof over your head. I want you warm with food in your belly. I don’t have a clue what women need in the clothes department, so I’m setting up a little safe in the kitchen. It’ll always have cash in it. You need something, either put it on a list and I’ll do my best, or take the cash and buy what you need.”
She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying. Her cheeks were wet and splotchy. He thought she was beautiful. He had to fight the urge to kiss her.
“I don’t know how to do that. Or where to go to do it. I’ve never left the swamp,” she confessed. “I stole these clothes off a line, and I’m always afraid I’ll run into the woman and she’ll know I took them even though I left her money twice.”
She sounded ashamed. He had hoped he could get her to see that stealing was wrong. He realized she knew stealing was wrong, but she’d been desperate. He didn’t like her feeling ashamed.
“Don’t worry, honey, we’ll go into town together and get you clothes. You’re a fast learner and I have no doubt you’ll learn all about shopping.”
She blinked rapidly, her dark lashes fluttering, drawing his attention to their length. Beautiful. He loved her face. He could look at it forever. Perfect symmetry. High cheekbones. Oval shape. That generous, generous mouth with her bowed lips. Small straight nose. Her large, fuck-me-all-night eyes surrounded by long, feathery lashes.
“I don’t like to go where there are a lot of people. That’s why I chose the Huracan Club to hunt – that and they have peanuts for free and he sells burgers. There weren’t a lot of people to choose from to rob, but I can’t control or manipulate a large group of people with my voice and I didn’t feel safe out in the open. The club was deep in the swamp.”
This wasn’t just about the explosive chemistry between them. Right in that moment, the only thing in his mind was to hold and comfort her. To find ways to show her what life with him was going to be. He wanted to give her everything he could possibly give her. She deserved that. She’d never had anything and she would never expect anything from him.
He knew what greed was. He had far too much money pouring into his accounts every minute of every day. He’d worked for it, but still, thanks to the magazines making him one of the most eligible bachelors in the world, the write-ups on him, the disclosure that he was a billionaire several times over, women threw themselves at him.
Trap was often rude. Beyond rude. He’d developed that as a form of protection and now it was ingrained in him. He was demanding in bed because he knew he could be, and then he kicked the women out, refusing to allow any woman to sleep in the same bed with him. He never took them home with him. Never. None of the women had any idea who he was, or even cared to know. They knew about his bank account and that was enough for them.
Cayenne had no idea about bank accounts and whether or not he had money. She could care less. She was alone. Afraid. Different. A throwaway. He’d been thrown away by his father and uncles. He had trust issues and recognized that Cayenne had those same issues deeply ingrained in her.
He hated that she was weeping as if her heart had broken, but he was grateful she’d come to him. That she’d given him that. She had handed him something precious. He knew he was a bull in a china shop when it came to relationships, but he read books and he observed carefully. No detail got past him. And he had instincts. He had always relied on his instincts.
Cayenne was vulnerable to him – and only him. She would never show this side of herself to any of the other men no matter how much she was hurt. He had that from her. That raw honesty. That soft spot. The truth that was her heart, and he would protect it with everything in him.
“All right, baby,” he crooned. “You’re going to make yourself sick. If Nonny wakes up and hears you crying, she’ll be in here like a shot. She’ll box my ears and take you under her wing. I like holding you when you need it, so I don’t want that to happen.”
She continued to weep but much more silently.
He smiled at the ceiling and tunneled his fingers in the thick mass of hair. Silky soft just like her skin. A man would get lost in that hair. “I’ll admit asking for that might be a little selfish. I want to be the man you turn to when things get all out of whack for you. I want you to feel safe with me and not anyone else.”
Her hand moved. She’d laid on him without moving a single muscle, almost as if her body had melted into his. Now, her hand stroked down his shoulder, over his biceps. He felt that touch burn through sinew into bone.
“I don’t know where to go, Trap. I know that’s your home, not mine. But I don’t know where to go,” she whispered, choking out the admission.
His hold tightened on her and he found himself frowning. “Is that what this storm is all about? Baby, I had that apartment built for you. I chose every piece of furniture down there. For you. It belongs to you.”
He heard – and felt – her breath hitch. Very slowly she lifted her head, her tear-drenched green eyes searching his blue ones. “Trap.” She whispered his name. Disbelieving. “You did?”
“What the hell am I going to do with all that girlie shit, baby? I knew you were using the basement. I don’t like you in it, but I reinforced the walls against flooding just in case. Still, eventually, I hope to lure you upstairs with me. I’m giving you fair warning about that. I want you in my bed, and I’m not going to play bullshit games. Right now, you need your space, and I’m going to give it to you as long as I can. So yeah, that apartment is all yours. I won’t go down there unless you invite me.”
“Really?”
This time her voice was breathless. The sound shot straight to his cock. He was stark naked and he didn’t need that happening. Not now. Not when she needed reassurance and a gentle hand. He wasn’t a gentle lover. He was demanding. As bossy and as abrupt in bed as he was outside of it. He didn’t want to scare her away.
“I just said it. I don’t like bullshit, Cayenne. When you want or need something, you have to come out and tell me. I’ll do the same. I don’t want you robbing people. I want you safe, with a roof over your head. I want you warm with food in your belly. I don’t have a clue what women need in the clothes department, so I’m setting up a little safe in the kitchen. It’ll always have cash in it. You need something, either put it on a list and I’ll do my best, or take the cash and buy what you need.”
She moistened her lips with the tip of her tongue. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying. Her cheeks were wet and splotchy. He thought she was beautiful. He had to fight the urge to kiss her.
“I don’t know how to do that. Or where to go to do it. I’ve never left the swamp,” she confessed. “I stole these clothes off a line, and I’m always afraid I’ll run into the woman and she’ll know I took them even though I left her money twice.”
She sounded ashamed. He had hoped he could get her to see that stealing was wrong. He realized she knew stealing was wrong, but she’d been desperate. He didn’t like her feeling ashamed.
“Don’t worry, honey, we’ll go into town together and get you clothes. You’re a fast learner and I have no doubt you’ll learn all about shopping.”
She blinked rapidly, her dark lashes fluttering, drawing his attention to their length. Beautiful. He loved her face. He could look at it forever. Perfect symmetry. High cheekbones. Oval shape. That generous, generous mouth with her bowed lips. Small straight nose. Her large, fuck-me-all-night eyes surrounded by long, feathery lashes.
“I don’t like to go where there are a lot of people. That’s why I chose the Huracan Club to hunt – that and they have peanuts for free and he sells burgers. There weren’t a lot of people to choose from to rob, but I can’t control or manipulate a large group of people with my voice and I didn’t feel safe out in the open. The club was deep in the swamp.”